"Nor do I. I am, though. I wish I wasn't. Can you see that? Have you ever wished you weren't yourself! Of course you have. So have I. Have you had men running after you all the time? Have you been free night and day, with time on your hands, and temptations going. You haven't. You don't know what it is. You've been at home. And what's more, you've been tied up because...because people think girls are safer if they're tied up." "_Men_ do!" flashed Jenny. "They like to have it all to themselves." "Well, if you'd ever been on your own for days together, and thinking as much about women as all young men do ..." "I wonder if I should boast of it," Jenny said drily. "To a girl I was pretending to love." Keith let his arm drop from her waist. He withdrew it, and sighed. Then he moved forward upon the settee, half rising, with his hands upon his knees. "Ah well, Jenny: perhaps I'd better be taking you ashore," he said in a constrained, exasperated tone. "You don't care if you break my heart," Jenny whispered. "It's all one to you." "That's simply not true.... But it's no good discussing it." He had lost his temper, and was full of impatience. He sat frowning, disliking her, with resentment and momentary aversion plainly to be seen in his bearing. "Just because I don't agree that it's mighty kind of you to ... condescend!" Jenny was choking. "You thought I should jump for joy because other women had had you. I don't know what sort of girl you thought I was." "Well, I thought ... I thought you were fond of me," Keith slowly said, making an effort to speak coldly. "That was what I thought." "Thought I'd stand anything!" she corrected. "And fall on your neck into the bargain." "Jenny, old girl.... That's not true. But I thought you'd understand better than you've done. I thought you'd understand _why_ I told you. You think I thought I was so sure of you.... I wish you'd try to see a bit further." He leaned back again, not touching her, but dejectedly frowning; his face pale beneath the tan. His anger had passed in a deeper feeling. "I told you because you wanted to know about me. If I'd been the sort of chap you're thinking I should have told a long George Washington yarn, pretending to be an innocent hero. Well, I didn't. I'm not an innocent hero. I'm a man who's knocked about for fifteen years. You've got the truth. Women don't like the truth. They want a yarn. A yappy, long, sugar-coated yarn, and lots of protestations. This is all because I haven't asked you to forgive me--because I haven't sworn not to do it again if only you'll forgive me. You want to see yourself forgiving me. On a pinnacle.... Graciously forgiving me--" "Oh, you're a beast!" cried Jenny. "Let me go home." She rose to her feet, and stood in deep thought. For a moment Keith remained seated: then he too rose. They did not look at one another, but with bent heads continued to reconsider all that had been said. v